


celestial horizons

by qotsisajakk



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Pre-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, The Force Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:54:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21667027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qotsisajakk/pseuds/qotsisajakk
Summary: "Jakku had given her nothing but heartbreak, time after time, and hadn’t she hoped for something better anyway?"Boy meets girl meets mutally self assured destruction in the form of space make outs.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 14
Kudos: 64





	celestial horizons

**Author's Note:**

> throw it on the pile. this makes no sense but it makes perfect sense if you squint and tilt your head sideways. This is the first reylo I've ever written that didn't immediately meet my delete button and I'm posting it late at night so I can't back out. Thanks to anyone reading!

She can taste his panic, a bitter, wild thing demanding her attention, demanding...reassurance.

She hadn’t felt him for so long, the way he crashes back into her orbit seems unceremonious.

“Rey,” he chokes out from behind her.

She whirls around to face him, bashing her knee of the underside of the control panel as she goes. He is hunched over, standing in the entrance to the cockpit, his face sickly and grey. Her chest heaves in synch with his own, and how easy it would be to fall back into it, to spread her arms wide and hurtle downwards into the maw of his turmoil. She hopes he can’t feel how much she wants to.

 _There is no emotion, only peace_ , she thinks, and his expression twists into a sneer.

“That is what they would have you believe,” he says from behind gritted teeth.

She looks down, and sees him pressing a hand into his ribs, the side from Starkiller Base.

“You’re hurt,” she answers, finally getting up out of the pilot’s seat. “What have you done?”

“Nothing that you have not already inflicted.” It almost sounds like praise. Part of her, the part that cares for Ben Solo, is preening. But Ben Solo is not here. The Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren is, and he is-

Bleeding to death across the galaxy. Somewhere she is not, even as he stands before her.

He is afraid. It presses into her, sickly tendrils reaching through the stars to wrap their way around her, and it’s working. The bond is whimpering, wounded, begging for help because it knows he won’t. And she shouldn’t. But she crosses to his side in two quick strides anyway, one hand hovering just over his ribs and the other clenched in a fist at her side. The breadth of his body is disarming up close like this, the first time since he’d held his hand out to her, beseeching -

“Don’t,” he says, nostrils flaring slightly. She can see the sheen of sweat cast over his face, and the way his lip sporadically trembles in the interim moment stirs her to action, the call of the bond too much to question while he is here. “I’m going to touch you,” she says, eyes flicking up as his close in resignation. “It might hurt.”

“Pain is...not what worries me,” he opens his eyes and her breath stutters. He is raw, an exposed nerve trying to reject sensation but unable to do so. He wants her to touch him. And he loathes himself for it, for opening himself up to that desire when last time all it gave him was disappointment. Devastation. She can’t say she blames him. Jakku had given her nothing but heartbreak, time after time, and hadn’t she hoped for something better anyway?

The pads of her fingers press, just so, over the wound in his side. She can feel it through the quilting of his jacket, leaking dark, hot blood. It has soaked into the black fabric, rendering her unable to see how much he has lost. Her fingers press harder, probing for depth around the ruined skin, and she can feel him taking the deep, unending depths of it and channeling it into power, to keep him up on his feet and scowling. It is muted, secondhand through the bond, but the dark satisfaction he gleans from mastering his body’s response to her ministrations pulses between them, unspoken.

“Do you have access to a med droid?” She doesn’t remove her hand. “No,” he mutters, looking over her head. “Are you still on the _Falcon_? I can’t see your surroundings, again, but someone had it on Crait. And they flew it well, from what my general's report.”

“Irrelevant,” she snaps back, suddenly irritated. He reappears for the first time in months, bleeding all over hand, and he’s worried about the _Falcon_?

“Don’t be jealous,” his eyes snap back to her face, searching. “I missed you, too.”

“I didn’t say anything of the sort,” she sniffs, pointedly ignoring his probing gaze.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he sounds gentle in a way she wouldn’t expect, soft in a way she has only been able to dream of. “I felt it.”

Inexplicably angry she hooks her fingers into the wound, taking great satisfaction in his hiss of agony before closing her eyes and breathing him out. There is a brief, blissful moment of pure silence in her head before she focuses on knitting the edges of his skin back towards one another, channeling healing energy towards the tips of her fingers and into the injury.

Kylo Ren _whines._

She is alarmed, but continues anyway. Whatever is going on with him, he’s managing to keep her out of it and it certainly won’t kill him as quickly as leaving a gaping hole in his side open. The feel of his flesh inching towards unity is unsettling, but welcome. If anyone is going to kill him, it’s her.

“Get in line,” he says quietly. “You’ll have to wait for your next turn to try."

“I started the line,” she murmurs, patting her fingers lightly on his side. ‘And I know everything there is to know about waiting.”

“Yes, I suppose you do,” he answers, gloved hand swallowing up her own as he lays it over hers against his ribcage. “How long would you wait?"

"Months.” She can’t look at him. “Years.” He is leaning into her now, and the Force rolls off of him like a storm, a song. "A lifetime."

“I know,” he grabs her elbow with his other hand and tugs her forward gently. “I know.”

When he touches his lips to hers, the roaring in her ears drowns out everything but his sharp inhale. When she sweeps her tongue across his bottom lip, star systems combust behind her eyelids. When he pulls back and grips her face with both hands and whispers her name onto her forehead, she finally knows what it is to come home.


End file.
